


Never Again

by capirony



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capirony/pseuds/capirony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What the hell happened?" He hisses through his mask, the car jerking as it scrapes against the curb.</p><p>Ray squeezes his side, "What, this?" he laughs and Ryan wants to strangle him, "It's nothing. Keep driving we'll be there soon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> I'm laughing so hard bc you dont generally see GTA and pillow/blanket forts in the same fic. written bc my fav pair needs more fics.

The gunshots are like sparks in his ears; they're loud and they hurt but he ignores them and continues to attack. He's a good shot and he's definitely crazy so of course he'd be put in this position (and he's here more often than not). It’s a tough job to handle alone, and he’s glad for once they didn’t make him do it. He can breathe a sigh of relief this time, for the back-up they decided to give him is more than capable of holding the position. They're the distraction this time and honestly, Ryan was loving it.

"To your left," whispers a voice in his ear, more clear and sane than anything around him at the moment. Utter chaos is raining all around him and it's taking all his concentration to keep himself from running into the midst of it, rocket launcher in tow. He takes the precaution and turns to his left, shooting down the man his partner warned him about. He grins to himself, hidden behind the mask; they do make the best team.

The rest of their group is ready for phase two, phase one being a stunning success, and then it'll be time to run. Ryan always hated that part. He'd much rather finish them all off in a blaze of glory and then bask in the adrenaline and the blood soaked roads afterwards.

At the signal, Ryan and his partner reach their car at the exact same moment, doors closing in synchronization and then they wordlessly head to their second position. Cops are hot on their tail and his partner shoots them down easily as he steers them through the hectic streets. The car is riddled with bullets by the time they reach their second destination and they may have almost rolled the car one or four times, but they lost the cops which was their main intention anyway. 

They move out and in the growing darkness things become threateningly more difficult. To Ryan, it's heaven, to the opposition, not so much.

His partner does exactly what he needs to do; cover him, and they work so well together that the plan never seems to fail. Nobody can touch them and nobody will touch their gang either. In no time it's over and they're at the part Ryan hates.

"Planes ready," Ray comments offhandedly as they regroup in their beaten up SUV. Ryan nods, ripping the earpiece out as soon as Ray relays the information. They're quiet and they've already lost the cops again when Ryan decides to look over at his partner.

And he freezes.

"What the hell happened?" He hisses through his mask, the car jerking as it scrapes against the curb.

Ray squeezes his side, "What, this?" he laughs and Ryan wants to strangle him, "It's nothing. Keep driving we'll be there soon."

He's tempted to pull over and demand an explanation, but instead he keeps driving and asks on the way, "What happened?"

"Just a graze. No big deal."

"No big deal? You're fucking bleeding all over the car! Just a graze my fucking ass!"

Ray laughs and it ends in a wince, hands squeezing the bloody spot on his side. "S'nothing."

"Ray--" The car jerks again and Ryan decides to stop it. Harshly, he pulls over generously onto the curb and parks it. The sound of a light pole falling in the distance is loud.

"Shit-- fuck come on it's fine let's just keep going pleas--"

Ryan covers his mouth with a bloodied hand, "Shut up and take off your hoodie."

Ray whines but does as told, Ryan helping when he can. The two ear buds on the console in between them buzz with conversational voices, but none asking for them. Not yet. Once the hoodie is off and the shirt is peeled away from the red area Ryan inspects the wounds, much to the discomfort of Ray. He curses under his breath and the younger boy groans.

Cursing louder, he throws himself back into his seat while wiping his hands off on the seat, obviously angered. He picks up an earpiece and holds the small mic up to his mouth, "Ray's hurt. Probably has a bullet or two in him. I'll be at our guy. Continue with the plan."

He throws the piece on the ground and from the other ear piece there is confusion and yelling, voices calling for Ryan but he ignores it. They'll understand and they'll work with it. They were all done with the heist anyway. 

Ryan starts to drive again, making a harsh u-turn and speeding away in the direction of their medic. He's helped them with everything from broken burns to paper cuts; bullet wounds were nothing new to him. 

"I'm sorry," Ray groaned quietly. He had pulled his bloody hoodie back onto himself, draping it loosely over his torso. His face had paled and his fingers shook as he snaked them out and held onto Ryan's sleeve. Ryan cursed under his breath again.

"Shoulda told me earlier."

"I didn't think it was bad," he confessed, hissing as he's jerked too hard to one side by Ryan's reckless driving. Ryan mentally notes to apologize for that when he isn't feeling so angry.

Ray's hand never leaves his sleeve the whole time. He seemed to be putting all his effort into holding onto Ryan, like he was afraid that if he let go he would be gone. Thinking about it made Ryan's chest ache and it took all his power to remain focused on the road and not to pull the boy into his arms and tell him everything will be ok. He was too angry for feelings.  
They drive in relative silence (Ray is hissing and wincing and swearing and Ryan is breathing so heavy and angrily that Ray can hear it) but they get there fast enough. It's a blur to Ryan as he sprints around to the passenger side and picks Ray up, ignoring his cries of pain, and carries him into the seemingly boring, uneventful household. 

The medic is surprised at the sudden barge-in but he recognizes Ryan immediately (it's the mask, he says, can’t mistake that). He leads Ryan to his operating room and directs Ryan around until Ray is on the table and topless, writhing in pain. He seemed to lose all energy when Ryan placed him down and that just made it harder for Ryan to leave the room. He barely heard the medic yelling at him as he pushed him out of the room. His eyes were locked on his friend and he was genuinely surprised when his view was suddenly a wooden door. He cursed at himself and leaned against the wall, ready to be called on at any moment. 

\-------------

It was maybe fifteen minutes later when his gang came bounding down the hallway. They had made a big racket getting through the front door and their loud chorus of voices came next. Ryan groaned, moving to the middle of the hallway before they all got there. 

"Where's Ray?" Gavin yelled, bouncing out from behind Geoff. Ryan wanted to punch him, but hey, luckily for him, Michael did it for him.

"Shut the fuck up Gavin!" Michael yelled. Gavin was rubbing the spot on his arm where Michael hit him.

"Can you all just quiet down?" Geoff groaned.

"Gavin's being the loudest!" 

"You are also yelling, Michael," Jack, the voice of reason, said.

"Guys," Ryan said, finally halting the clutter of voices. They all stopped and looked at him, blue eyes glaring right back at them. "Ray's currently being operated on and I am pretty sure our medic won't like this disruption."

They all quieted down at that, "Is he going to be okay?" Geoff asked, taking a step forward. He's the gang leader even though he didn't always act like one. He liked to fool around like the rest of them, but he was definitely the most careful and the best at coming up with plans. Not to mention he brought the lot of them together. He definitely earned his place as boss.

"He should be," Ryan answered. The room became solemn after that statement, the implied meaning burning on everyone's tongues, "He'll be fine." 

"Is there anything we can really do here?" Jack asked after a moment of silence, bringing all the attention to him, "I mean maybe lets leave one, two of us here, _maybe_ , but the rest of us need to get somewhere safe. The money is seriously just out in the car right now and we're still kind of wanted by the cops."

"Damn Jack, why do you always have to be such a downer," Michael hissed, directing a special angry glare at the bearded man, "Ray is our teammate, _our friend._ "

"I'm not saying he's not," Jack replied with a sigh, hands thrown up defensively, "I'm just thinking about the good of the crew. No use for Ray if he gets out and all his teammates are in jail."

"That'd be one epic break-out, though," Gavin commented, laughing in that obnoxious way he does. Everyone ignored him.

"No, Jack's right," Geoff said, arms crossed in thought, "Ryan, you got this? Can you take care of Ray once he's all patched up?"

"Of course,"

"Then we'll leave you to it."

Michael groaned and Gavin squeaked a defiant "what" in response.

"Let's go to the safe house. We'll be there for a few days, until it calms down out there. Call me when you're ready," Geoff directs and everyone immediately obeys. They may all call out their opinions and feel very strongly about them, but when Geoff orders something they all listen. Daddy knows best, or so he’d say.

They leave and Ryan is left alone with his damn thoughts again. The image of Ray bloodied and helpless in the passenger seat of his car is not one he can easily shake. As someone as feared as the Mad King himself, he sure isn't that strong when it comes to his friends being hurt. Especially Ray.

"Fuck!" he yells out of frustration, slamming his fist against the wall. His other hand is tightly balled into a fist and he would very much like to crush it into someone's head at the moment. He refused to believe he let Ray get hurt but the facts and reality rush into him and it hurts it actually _hurts_ him. As much as Ray was there to cover him, _he was there to cover Ray, too_. And he failed. He let Ray get hurt. And he didn't even notice until well into the drive that he was actually in fact hurt. He wishes he can go back and make everything better, go back and take the bullet for him, but he can't. He can't change the facts and he hates it so fucking much.

\-------------

It's hours later and Ryan has completely drained himself and is back to sitting on the floor. He had resorted to picking at his shoes and had a good pile of dried blood and dirt beside him. He still wore the mask. He always wore the mask.

When the door clicked open, Ryan didn't know what to think. He didn't register the sound and he was confused for a moment until it dawned in his head and he stood up in a flurry. "How is he? Is he okay? Where is he?" a mantra of concerns flowed out of his lips and the medic only laughed it off. 

"He'll wake up soon. He'll be fine," The man was washing his hands and he looked like he had cleaned up a lot and taken his time and Ryan was immediately furious that he wasn't informed that the removal was finished sooner. "I'm going back to bed now. Make sure you take everything with you when you leave. The doors will lock behind you."

With that he was gone and Ryan watched him leave down the hall as he calmed himself back down. Their medic was a really good guy. Well, at least he does what Geoff pays him for.  
When Ryan enters the room he's suddenly hit with a wave of relief. Ray looked fine. He's a little worse for wear, but that's to be expected after such a successful heist. If you overlooked the bandage on his side, he looked fine. 

Ryan couldn't get to the lad's bedside quicker. His fists clench around the bars on the side of the bed as soon as he arrives at his side and he finds it impossible to drag his eyes away from Ray's face. He has a slight wrinkle in between his eyebrows, as if he were in pain. Ryan wished he could take the pain away. Gradually, Ryan loosened his grip on the bed, realizing that Ray wasn't going to immediately wake up just because he was now at his side. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, desperately wanting nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

"Fuck," he whispered, giving into temptation and gripping Ray's hand gently with his own. His hand was larger than Ray's and it surprised him. They were both guys and he just thought that they should have the same size hands. He doesn't often hold hands with anyone, so he just assumed all hands were the same. It made sense, right?

Rays hands weren't small, but they weren't as large as his. They were riddled with scars too, and calluses were present on his palm, Ryan noted as he turned the hand around in his own. His fingernails were short, bitten; they looked bad. Ryan couldn't say his fingernails looked any better. At least Ray didn't have blood caked in between his. After what seemed like forever of him just staring at his friends hand, fingers twitched beneath his own and Ryan's eyes flicked up to deep brown ones staring right back.

"Are you about done yet?" 

Ryan was glad for the mask at that moment because his face was on fire. He backed away from the boy hurriedly, "So you're awake. Let's go then."

"You're not even going to take me out to dinner first?"

Ryan sputtered, "To the safe house. Let's go."

Ray groaned, a soft "fine, fine" as he tried to sit up. Ryan had to help him and informed him of his bandages as well. Ray spat out a laugh and replied that yes, he could feel them, and Ryan felt stupid. 

When he was finally sitting up, his feet flat on the floor, he spoke up, "Uh, where is my shirt? My hoodie?"

Ryan shrugged, "They're probably better off in the garbage wherever they are. They were soaked in your blood."

"Damn, I liked that hoodie."

"Here," Ryan said. He tried to play it cool as he pulled off his jacket and handed it to the boy. With just his deep blue v-neck covering his torso he now felt cold, "Wear this."

Ray took his jacket with an audible gulp and put it on slowly, "It's probably a bit dirty, don't wash it as much as I should," Ryan said offhandedly, silently admiring the way it hung off the boys shoulders.

Ray stood up, groaning as he did so and looked Ryan in the eye, "How do I look?"

"Good," Ryan said without hesitation and reveled in the slight dusting of pink on the others face, "Now lets get out of here."

\-------------

He calls Geoff as promised before they leave and their boss confirms that they are good to go and the area around the safe house is clear. The majority of the boys have settled down with some video games and beers at that time, but Geoff was busy at work. He worked more than any of them really thought was needed, but they all tried to help when they could. Ryan hangs up after the affirmative and calls his personal car. Once it’s delivered, they’re on their way. 

Ryan can’t help but love the way his jacket looks on Ray and he can’t keep his eyes off of him. There’s just something about it that Ryan can’t place and he feels a strong urge of _something_ when he looks at him. He knows Ray notices him looking and he doesn't fucking care. 

The car ride is silent, but it’s not heavy. It’s a comfortable silence that helps Ryan think and on one hand he hates it, but on the other hand it helps him reflect on what he did wrong tonight and what he needs to do better next time. The ride to the safe house is across the city and they take the back roads, just to be safe.

When they enter the safe house Ray is met with happy cheers and worried cries. Nobody comments on the fact that he’s wearing Ryan’s jacket and he silently breathes a sigh of relief for that. There are hugs passed around and the lads loudly express their happiness to see their friend okay. Geoff slides next to Ryan in the middle of it all and whispers quietly in his ear, “Keep him safe next time.”

The statement makes the hair on the back of his neck raise and he vows to do just that. He nods and Geoff returns the gesture, going over to ruffle Ray’s hair before advising everyone get some sleep. The younger ones of the group groan and object, going back to playing video games while Ray excuses himself to a room or something, Ryan didn't know. They don’t have their own rooms here, but three is enough for them. Couches are good alternatives to the ones who don’t make it to a bed and don’t want to share.

Ryan hangs around in the kitchen for a while, watching the boys fight over something stupid that Gavin did in the game. He wonders what Ray’s doing and what he’s thinking about and how he’s feeling. He hangs his head and sighs loudly.

“Shower. You need it,” Ryan jumps at the deep voice, immediately resorting to glaring at the bearded man in front of him. He didn’t even hear him walk up to him; he must be more tired than he thought, “It’s like 2 am and we've had a busy day. Everyone else has already settled down. Go and do the same.”

Ryan nods, agreeing with Jack for once before leaving the room tiredly. He does just what the gent told him to and cleans himself up. When he tears off the mask, he avoids looking in the mirror for a long time, worried he’ll see a mess looking back at him. He successfully ignores his reflection and gets in the shower. It feels nice to rid himself from the dried blood and dirt and he stays under the spray longer than he should just so he can feel that euphoria for as long as he could.

When he gets out he’s glad the mirrors are fogged because he still doesn't want to see himself.

He retires to an empty room afterwards, not really in the mood to show his face and not really wanting to put the mask on again. 

\-------------

He can’t sleep. 

He watches the clock on his phone as it turns from 4:59 am to 5:00 am and he sighs loudly. The commotion in the small house had tapered off at around three in the morning and he’s been left with his thoughts ever since. He scrubs his hand over his face and throws the covers off, sitting up off the side of the bed and holding his head in his hands. God he was so tired. Slowly, he stood up, walking out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. Surprisingly enough there was nobody on the couch and he wondered who was cuddling up with who. The thought only made him laugh and he quickly tried to forget it.

“I don’t think I've heard you laugh like that before, like, ever,” The sudden sound made Ryan jump and he spun around to face the intruding voice. Ray was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, watching Ryan as he fumbled around the living room. Ryan scratched the back of his head awkwardly, cursing at himself for letting even a little laugh like that out, “Usually when you laugh I want to run in the other direction,” he laughs.

Ryan mocked his laugh, walking towards the boy and seating himself across the bar from him. “Very funny.”

“I know I am,” he grins and Ryan wants to punch himself in the face.

“How are you feeling?” He asks instead, turning the conversation to something a little more serious. Ray shrugs one shoulder and frowns.

“I’m sore but whatever.”

“Then why are you up?”

“It’s hard to sleep like this.”

Laughing slightly, Ryan asks, “What, do you need help going to sleep?”

Ray blushed and Ryan saw it easily. It was very noticeable, “That’s not what I mean it’s just-- I sleep on my side and it’s usually this side,” he motions vaguely to the wound and Ryan feels his stomach flip, “So I’m having a bit of trouble getting comfortable.”

Ryan’s quiet for a moment and he’ll hate himself later for saying it but he does anyway, “I can help, if you’d like?”

Ray looks at him for a moment, warily, but then he answers with a nod, “Sure.”

He helps the boy limp to the room he was in before. He assumes the rest of them took up the other two rooms and he knew that room was for sure empty. He sits him down with little to no grimacing from Ray and begins to hatch his plan. He gathers supplies from the closet in the hallway and the couch in the living room and begins construction in their room. Ray helps when he can after he catches on to what Ryan’s up to and soon it becomes a game. They’re laughing and giggling like children and Ryan feels so stupid, but the look on Ray’s face is definitely worth it. 

Once the blanket fort is completed Ryan looks down and admires their work. Two or three blankets make up the top of the fort, cushions from the couch and the minimal furniture in the room help with support. The inside is like how he would regularly dress a bed but it’s doubled; its plush and soft and definitely nothing he’d ever let any of the other guys see him in. Ray clambers in, wincing to himself as he does so and Ryan’s need to protect flares up. He crawls in after him, the soft light of his cell phone makes it seem sort of... magical. It’s weird.

“This is great,” Ray says. He sounds breathless and Ryan can’t help but look at his eyes. They’re sparkling.

“It doesn't really fix the discomfort thing,“ Ryan dismissed, hand flailing slightly, “Sorry.”

“It’s cool. This is nicer than a bed anyway.”

They sit in companionable silence, neither of them laying down or moving at all really. Finally, Ryan asks, “Should I leave, or?”

“No,” Ray blurts, “It’s okay. Stay. Please?”

Ryan nods and Ray smiles. The younger boy yawns and tries to situate himself down. Ryan, trying to be helpful and hating the muffled sounds of pain coming from his friend, reaches down and pulls a blanket up around him. His legs were tucked awkwardly under the blanket and he honestly was at a loss of what to do.

“You can lay down too, you know,” Ray said with a laugh. Ryan heard the wince more than the words. 

“Are you okay?” He asked suddenly (and for the millionth time), leaning over the boy. His bright brown eyes were just so captivating and Ryan couldn't tear his eyes away from him. 

“Are you?” The question shocks him, “I mean I was the one who got hurt but you’re the one who looks like it.”

Ryan frowns, eyebrows furrowing. He turns away from Ray and really wants to leave but its what Ray says next that keeps him there, “I protected you and you protected me. I was being careless and that’s why I got hit. It wasn't your fault, Ryan.”

They’re quiet for a long time. Long enough for Ryan's phone to go back into sleep mode. The darkness was comforting and Ryan eventually made himself calm down again. Ignoring what Ray said, he laid himself down, facing away from the boy. Their position was weird but it felt nice nonetheless; Ryan had no one and he was alone most of the time. Having someone here with him, someone who didn't completely hate him or hate his face felt nice. 

Their legs were touching slightly and it was warm. Ryan sighed, closing his eyes.

“It hurts a little, but I mean that’s to be expected, right?” Ray asks to the darkness. Ryan grunts in response, “I was stupid.”

“Nah,” Ryan said quietly, “Just a _little_ reckless.” He turned around to face Ray who was laying on his back. He looked ridiculously uncomfortable. “Here, lift your hips up a little.”

“What--” Ray began, but was cut off as Ryan helped (forced) him to roll onto his side, wound to the floor. He was grimacing but it was abruptly cut off into an expression of surprise as Ryan slipped his arm between his hips and the blankets beneath him. It slightly alleviated the pain on his side, just as Ryan had hoped. 

“Better?”

Ryan looked into his eyes and almost lost himself again; they were so close. Too close. Not close enough. He gently placed his hand on the smaller hip while Ray’s hands fisted into the fabric of Ryan’s shirt. Ray breathed out a shaky breath and Ryan smirked, “You okay there, buddy?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ray stammered, “Just a little manly cuddling. Nothing new, right?”

Ryan couldn't help the feeling of relief that overtook him then and he laughed.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he was waking up again. His shoulder was stiff and he was about to get angry about it when he remembered _why_ it was. Opening his eyes was a godsend and he felt the softest, strangest smile spread across his face. 

Ray was asleep, face inches in front of his own, mouth slightly open, long eyelashes flush against his cheeks. Where his glasses were, Ryan didn’t know, but he decided that Ray looked just as good without them as he did with them. He looked so peaceful, so sweet, so beautiful, and Ryan was at a loss of words. One of Ray’s hands was loosely cupped around the back of Ryan’s head, fingers tangled in his hair, and his other was still holding onto Ryan’s shirt. To make matters worse for Ryan, their legs were jumbled together and he was sure he wouldn't be able to untangle them without the help of an at least slightly awake Ray.

But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care.

He lifted a hand and gently stroked gentle fingertips across a soft cheek, around his ear, through his hair. God, he was beautiful. With minimal movement, Ryan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead and when he settled back in, Ray was still asleep.

Putting his arm around the small of the other man’s back, Ryan pulled himself closer, ever closer, holding the wounded man in his arms, wanting nothing more than for that moment to last forever. And he was determined to never let the boy get hurt under his watch ever again.


End file.
